


Seaside Arms

by NiteWrighter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiteWrighter/pseuds/NiteWrighter
Summary: This one was also written back in 2014.A Sequel to Sea Dragon In (For thrumbolt who requested this a long-ass time ago but I am a lazy/busy pile of trash)
Theon and Jeyne with more hurt/comfort shit, so usual trigger warnings for panic attacks/hyperventilation. Also alcohol tw because they get drunk and slow dance like hopeless goddamn teenagers.





	

Jeyne was perched on a washing machine with the Dornish blanket from the car wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her covered while her clothes rumbled in the dryer beneath her. Theon leaned against a washer across from her, a skeleton wearing nothing but a grubby beach towel that seemed to have somehow come from a gift shop in the Shield Islands, but Jeyne couldn’t be sure. He was picking under his nails with the knife when Jeyne looked around and whispered, “I can’t believe they let us do this.”

“They probably think we’re addicts,” said Theon, not looking up. Jeyne pursed her lips.

“I don’t think I like that.”

“Probably shouldn’t have stripped down in a Laundromat, then,” said Theon, setting the knife aside as the dryer beeped beneath Jeyne. Jeyne scooted back as Theon rummaged through the dryer and tossed Jeyne a pair of blue polka dot panties and sports bra with the elastic so worn out it basically defeated its own purpose. Jeyne secured the blanket in her teeth as she did her best to get the underwear on underneath a blanket. Jeyne decided there was nothing in this world that beat putting on fresh-out-of-the-dryer panties. She smiled and made a sighing happy sound as Theon tossed her the Citadel U sweatshirt and her ripped up jeans and she pulled those on.

“Poole, watch this.”

“I don’t want to see you put on pants, Theon.”

“Jeyne, look.”

“Theon just _get dressed._ ”

“Yeah but look—are you looking?” Jeyne looked up from putting the accidentally-put-on-backwards sweatshirt forward and Theon was standing there with the grubby beach towel still around his bony waist, “Okay. Cool. Watch and be amazed, Poole.” He secured the towel around his waist and grabbed a pair of holey boxers from the dryer and pulled them on under the towel. He did it way faster than she did, and even pulled on jeans in a matter of seconds. “Okay granted it would be a bit more impressive changing out of a wet swimsuit, but the principle’s the same.”

“You made that big a deal about putting on a pair of pants underneath a towel?”

“One of the important things you gotta learn living by the sea—I mean, granted it’s probably going to be a frozen salty hellhole for the next few years, but when spring rolls around—you’ll be a master at getting dressed beneath a towel,” said Theon, grabbing a shirt out of the dryer and pulling it on. “Oh fuck me that’s nice…” he said, leaning against the dryer, pressing his warm shirt to himself.

Forty minutes of showering, scouring with the little hotel washcloth, and every bar of soap they could find in the hotel room (there were three) and all of the little mini shampoo bottles later, Theon no longer smelled like a what port-a-potty’s armpit would smell like if port-a-potty had armpits, and that made Jeyne happy. “You’re going to love Pyke,” said Theon, “Okay the weather’s kind of miserable and most of the people are miserable and actually I don’t know why you’ll love Pyke or if you even will love Pyke, in fact based on my last visit to Pyke _I_ don’t really love Pyke, but you’re going to love Pyke. Or something.” They threw their remaining clothes into the duffle and walked out of the Laundromat to the car. The sleet kicked in about an hour into the drive. They had to pull over a few times to wait for it to lighten up into rain and Jeyne shrank into her sweatshirt, hearing it hammer down on the car.

“Do you have friends in Pyke?” asked Jeyne, looking over at Theon.

“Yeah!” Theon said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as hard as he was trying to convince her, “There’s…Asha and…Dagmer…? Dagmer’s probably dead…I don’t think he liked me that much…wow okay that is actually a really depressing question.”

“I’m sorr—” Jeyne started to say but Theon snapped his fingers.

“Wex!” said Theon, “Wex Pyke! Great kid, didn’t talk much…or at all…I…I have no idea where he is either. Shit…” Theon leaned back in his seat, watching the rain and snow slush onto the hood of the car. The sleet lightened up enough for them to start driving again, and Jeyne decided not to ask too many questions about Pyke anymore.

“You’re…you’re all right with Pyke, right?” said Theon, his seven fingers drumming against the steering wheel again.

“There isn’t really anywhere else we can go, is there?” said Jeyne.

“There’s always North…but…hell if the weather’s this bad here, I hate to think of what Jon’s dealing with right now. I mean, you know, if he’s—”

“Still alive,” they both said at the same time. They said that a lot when they were talking about everyone they used to know.

“So kind of nowhere else then,” said Jeyne.

“Yeah nowhere else,” Theon shrugged. It was too cloudy to tell, but it felt like sunset when they pulled into Sea Dragon Port. It was slightly less depressing than Nessville and Theon reached over and grabbed Jeyne’s arm when they pulled in to the harbor. Jeyne remembered a long time ago, a Theon Greyjoy with a full white smile and dark hair who would talk about the Ironborn and tales of adventure on the high seas and of Nagga the Sea Dragon for which this damp woodsy peninsula was named and his face would light up. There was something lighting up in Theon’s eyes now as they caught their first glimpse of the sea.

—

“What the fuck do you mean all ferry runs are cancelled until tomorrow?” Theon had to raise his voice over the hollow sounds of sleet pounding on the awning over the ferry building. The man behind the glass was zipping up a windbreaker.

“Look even without the sleet, there’s no way to get to the Iron islands safely,” he replied, “Until the weather lets up, you’re stuck here.”

“Fuck…” Theon pulled away from the glass and rubbed his white hair, the drumming thuds of sleet on the awning went silent and Theon sharply turned around at the man behind the glass who looked at Theon while he was busy taking apart his mic set, only to turn it on one more time to say, “Even without the sleet. Drive safe, Skeletor.”

“ _Skeletor!?_ Okay, fuck directly off I am—-” Jeyne’s eyes widened and she grabbed his arm before he said his name. Theon’s tongue was pressed to the remainders of his front teeth, about to make the “th” sound when he looked at Jeyne. Theon caught himself and swallowed his rage, then exhaled. “Fuck off…” Theon muttered, as the ticketer exited his office. He glanced over at Jeyne and back over to the car. He bit the inside of his lip with the remainder of his teeth and made another frustrated noise as he took off pacing.

“Hey—” Jeyne took off after him, “Hey it’s just a few hours. We drove all the way here, we can manage one more night.” Jeyne pulled her coat close around her. “Let’s get back to the car,” she said, zipping it up.

“Poole, I am not in a mood to be put in a confined space right now,” Theon said, pacing down a sidewalk slicked with filthy ice.

“The—” Jeyne started to say but she sighed and followed behind him. Between his pace and his missing toes, he slipped a lot, but never so much as to fall. Still, Jeyne was a bit more careful, looked down more, and would look up to see Theon a little bit further ahead of her. She’d hurry carefully ahead to try and catch up with him, when he passed in front of an alley closed off by chain-link fencing, there was the sound of a dog barking. Jeyne knew the sound. The sound made her stomach drop and then tighten in knots, but she knew it did worse to Theon. The barking was relentless, deep, and meaningless, just a sound, but Theon flinched hard away from it and the ice on the sidewalk was not forgiving to clumsy feet with missing toes. He was sprawling back, half-welcoming the gravity that put distance between him and the dog and the rattling chain-link fence. He fell. She was at his side in seconds.

“Theon—” she found his name helped bring him back, helped remind him where he was, helped let him know that they weren’t there any more.

“I’m okay,” Theon was half-scrambling back, but was gripping Jeyne’s arm as she moved to help him to his feet, “I’m fine–” his chest was rising and falling faster and faster though, the metal was rattling, clinking, the dog was barking. Theon looked ready to shrink and crinkle into nothingness, or be blown away with the next strong wind that tore through the parking lot.

“Walk with me, Theon, breathe,” Jeyne said, hooking her arm in his. She quickly started walking him away from the dog and the rattling chain-link fence.  
“It’s fine—I’m fine—I’m okay—” Theon’s knuckles were white gripping her arm. It might have hurt if there wasn’t a thick downy layer to Jeyne’s coat. What could she say? “No you’re not?” She knew he wasn’t. _He_ knew he wasn’t. “I just need to—” his breath was getting shorter, “I just need to catch—” his breath was getting quicker, “I’m fine I just need—” He started walking very quickly away, his breath getting shorter, “Just need to catch my breath—” He wasn’t catching it. The more he tried the further it seemed to get away from him. He pressed his palms to his forehead.

Jeyne followed after him. “Breathe, come on, you’ve done it with me. Theon you’re here. You’re not there. It’s going to be okay. Just—“

He whirled around on his heel, “Kyra, will you just shut the _fuck_ up and let me—” The name caught him like a barb. Jeyne’s eyes were wide, her brow was crinkled and furrowed and her mouth was tight.

“You need to sit down, Theon,” said Jeyne.

“Yeah—” he slumped down onto the curb, rubbing his forehead, “I didn’t mean that—-I don’t think you’re—you’re not—”

“It’s okay, just breathe,” said Jeyne, “Slow down.”

“I wasn’t,” Theon looked over at Jeyne but she was gesturing at him to take a deep breath and he inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, then released it slowly, “I wasn’t…I wasn’t here…”

“You’re here now,” said Jeyne.

“I’m here now,” said Theon. He looked off at the parking lot. “I’m here now,” he said to himself again.

“Take as long as you need,” said Jeyne.

“I’m here now,” Theon said again. They sat on the curb for about ten minutes, until it started raining again, then they had to stand up and get back to the car and watch it run down the windshield. They sat silently in the car for another five minutes.

“We’re sleeping in the car again tonight?” asked Jeyne.

“Yeah,” said Theon, “I didn’t see any vacancies pulling in here.” Their breath had fogged up the windows a bit and Jeyne traced out a cat on the glass with her finger. Droplets of condensation drew lines like tears down its eyes and then dripped down from its whiskers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Jeyne, “You know…about…”

“Kyra?” Theon leaned back in his seat, “I hear dogs and the sound of metal on metal and I think of her. I dunno… it was a rough combo… Dogs…metal…the voice of a cute girl getting scared…Not that—” he sat up, “Not that you really remind me of her that much—You’re you. You’re not her. I know that. I just—I just hope I do better with you than I did with her.”

“You did do better with me,” said Jeyne reaching over and taking his hand, “We’re here because you did.”

Theon brought her hand up in his and she interlaced her five fingers with his four. He brought it to his lips. She felt warm air on her knuckles as he exhaled before he brought his hand down and let go of hers. “We’re here,” said Theon. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they napped for a few minutes, maybe half an hour. Jeyne woke up to being pushed very slowly off of Theon’s shoulder and into her seat and a very soft, “Shit.” It was pretty dark out but Jeyne smiled at Theon who muttered an apology and something about starting the car as he turned the key in the ignition and wiped down the fogged up windshield with his forearm.

“Jeyne how much respect for me would you lose if I told you I wanted to get drunk as fuck?”

“I don’t know how much respect I’d lose but I’d tell you my dad always told me it’s wrong to self-medicate.”

“Okay so…how about it’s a celebration? Our last night on the mainland before we take off for Pyke tomorrow. We don’t have enough for hotel fare but,” he pulled a bill with a stag on it out of his pocket, “Enough for some bottom shelf shit, right?”

Jeyne smiled.

It didn’t take long to find a little corner grocers.

“This stuff’s good,” said Jeyne, taking a bottle from the shelf.

“Poole, you don’t need to worry about trying to act like you know wine. Everyone’s lost in the liquor aisle and no one wants to admit it.”

“Yeah but I actually know what I’m talking about,” said Jeyne, shoving he bottle into Theon’s hands. He recognized the ivy leaves on the label. “I know this stuff…” he said quietly.

“You should,” said Jeyne, “That’s the label my dad always went with when Mr. Stark was throwing a dinner party. Nice enough so no one complains, cheap enough so there’s a lot of it and those who might know it’s actually cheap as fuck are by then too drunk to realize it. That’s the window you want to go through.”

Theon gave a half-chuckle out of his nose but then looked a bit indecisive as he looked down at the bottle.

“I mean…I know…you didn’t have as many good memories of Winterfell as I did…and…I guess it got ruined by…well…you know. I mean it’s just a suggestion…”

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” said Theon.

“We can go even cheaper,” said Jeyne, setting it back, “I don’t mind—” Jeyne glanced up from the shelf to Theon, who was glancing off in a different direction. A willowy girl with nearly-black hair with most of her figure hidden under an enormous bulky coat with was puzzling between two different labels of pink moscato. Jeyne looked from the girl, to Theon, who was also looking at the girl, back to the girl, back to Theon, then gave Theon a nudge.

“What?” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Go talk to her,” Jeyne mouthed.

“What?” Theon mouthed then looked over at the girl then back to Jeyne and shook his head.

“C’mooooon…” Jeyne whispered.

“I look like a zombie hobo,” Theon muttered.

“A _cute_ zombie hobo,” said Jeyne, “Go—Oh she’s gone.” Theon glanced over his shoulder and sure enough she had made her decision and was walking out of the wine aisle.

“A cute zombie hobo,” Theon repeated at normal volume.

“Yeah,” said Jeyne. Theon snorted and grabbed a random bottle off the bottom shelf.

—-

“Look, I know what you were trying to do back there, and you really don’t have to do stuff like that,” said Theon as they drove around the town in the dark. Jeyne picked at the paper of the label with her fingernail.

“What was I trying to do?” said Jeyne.

“Get me to talk to a girl—cheer me up—like, it’s sweet but—well I guess stuff like that may have worked for the person I used to be but—” Theon took one hand off the steering wheel to rub the back of his head, “Like—I wish it would work—but at the same time, I don’t want to deal with my issues like that anymore, you know?”

“We’re about to get drunk,” Jeyne said flatly.

“Celebrate,” Theon corrected her, “We are celebrating getting off this shithole to a mainland to get to my shithole of an archipelago tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think you’d..well…I didn’t think you’d be like the old you with her,” said Jeyne, “I don’t think you’re like the old you now.”

“Look I’d like to be able to chew my food before I worry about the love life, okay?” said Theon, “I don’t want people to be my coping mechanisms. I don’t think you want that either. In the meantime we’re freaking out about each other all the time because--I dunno--we’re the only people in the world we know are as fucked up as we are and we think maybe if we can give each other some normalcy, maybe _we_ can be normal. Like…individually normal. Does that make sense?”

“So…we’re each other’s coping mechanisms?” said Jeyne.

“What? No! Fuck no. That’s unhealthy as fuck. But…we’re going to need to figure out what’s going on here, you know?”

“Here as in us here?”

“Yeah. On a day where I didn’t get a panic attack from a fucking fence and dog. We’ll need to figure this shit out. You know…it’ll probably all be different once we’re not moving from place to place. Once we’re someplace safe, you know? We’ll figure it out then.”

Jeyne was fidgeting with her hair. “Are we….are we good?”

“Wh—Of course we’re good. Jeyne you’ve been amazing. You’re one of the bravest, most patient, sweetest, toughest kids I’ve ever met, okay? You’ve been great with everything. Like, superhuman great. I could not have asked for a better partner on the world’s most fucked up fleeing-from-a-psycho-slash-road-trip and you have honestly been…what are you grinning like that for, Poole? I’m being serious.”

Jeyne tucked some of her hair away from her face and leaned back in her chair, beaming. Theon let out a short sharp breath and smiled to himself a little. They pulled up on a hillside parking lot that looked over the town. There were no stars over head, only a high, grayish purple of an overcast sky, with a dim light in one spot where the moon hung. Theon stopped the car and got out, grabbing the wine bottle in a paper bag with him.

“You know…I stopped here before when Robb sent me to…ah whatever,” said Theon, using his sleeve to wipe off the dampness off the hood of the car then slid up onto the hood, “Come on out,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her through the windshield. Jeyne opened her passenger side door then slid onto the hood of the car. The dampness soaked through her jeans a bit but Theon handed the wine bottle over to her and she took a sip. It tasted okay in a shitty way, and warmed her up a bit. They could see the whole town from up there, which wasn’t really saying much but it was nice to see a grid of orange and white lights down below, with some whiter lights clustered in a line where the town ended and the ocean began. At the far left and right corners of her vision some lighthouses blinked, and the ferry building where she and Theon had been what felt like hours earlier stood at the edge of the black. A blanket of fog was moving in on the city from the right. It had been repeatedly claimed that it was a celebration, but both seemed to have silently agreed that there was more and less to it than that, that they weren’t out of the woods yet, that they couldn’t really feel safe until there was at least the sea put between them and the Boltons. Both huddled close to each other more as a reaction to the cold than anything. Theon had lost a lot of weight and had trouble staying warm, but he was getting better. They traded swigs from the bottle as the hours passed, sometimes talking very quietly. One could hear the wind howling out over the sea, but they only got a few nasty cold breezes.

“Hey,” Jeyne said when a little more than a third of the bottle was gone, “You want to listen to music?”

Not waiting for an answer she snatched the keys from Theon’s jacket pocket and slipped off of the hood of the car. She slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key, not starting the engine but turning on the radio. Theon sipped from the bottle as she waded through static until one of the stations came in celar.

“—a big shoutout to Clarys Waterman in Pinecliff Bay! Happy Name-Day, Clarys and heeeeere’s your song request on the one! The only! KDRG! The oldies station for Sea Dragon Point!” 

“Change it,” Theon’s voice sounded through the windshield.

“Just give it a chance!” said Jeyne, turning up the volume and stepping out of the car. Theon sighed and took a deep gulp from the bottle, “If they play ‘Under my skin’ again I’m ripping the radio out—”

_If you change your MIND! I’m the first in LINE! Honey I’m still FREE! Take a chance on ME!_

“This is good!” Jeyne said, walking around the hood. “Come on!” she held out her hands to him, bouncing a bit on her heels.

“You’re kidding right?” said Theon.

_Take a chance on meeeee_

“It’s a sign, Theon. You’ve got to dance,” said Jeyne, still holding her hands out to him and letting the rhythm move her hips a bit now.

“Jeyne my life is a series of poorly informed, desperate, and terribly influenced ideas, and dancing to Abba will only be adding to the list.”

“This is Abba?”

“Yes. You’ve taken up the role of the drunk spinster aunt at a wedding and are unironically dancing to Abba right now.”

Jeyne half-scoffed and raised her arms a bit, doing an odd little soft-shoe to the beat, probably her attempt at something resembling retro, “Well _I_ think it’s fun.”

Theon rolled his eyes and looked back at the bottle and took another swig. Jeyne was still dancing. The song seemed to slow around the verse but still she kept it up, shimmying, turning on her heels, nearly slipping on ice and then giggling as she regained her footing. Theon glanced from the bottle back to her, now doing a—what the hell kind of dance even was that? Some kind of hopping little…what? It was somewhere between drunk aunt, Nancy Sinatra, and awkward dad at a barbecue, but her sheer lack of caring about it helped her pull it off.

“Fuck me,” muttered Theon, taking a swig from the bottle and setting it on the car roof and sliding off the hood.

“Told you it was fun!” said Jeyne as Theon shuffled his feet, then seemed to get frustrated at how much fun she seemed to be having, then took one of her hands. She twirled and he nearly tripped and some splutter of a chuckle escaped him.

“You suck at this!” said Jeyne, laughing.

“ _You_ suck at this!” he shot back and she took his other hand and started doing her weird shimmy-soft shoe dance again. She was biting her lip, grinning, laughing to herself at times as they struggled to get into some kind of mutual rhythm. By the time they finally seemed to get the hang of it the song only went on for another thirty seconds. The song faded away and another song started playing.

_Ha-ha-ha-haaaaa-ha…_

“Oh shit…classic,” said Theon, snickering.

Jeyne abruptly broke off from him and walked over to the car where the wine bottle rested on the roof. She grabbed it and took a deep gulp.

“You okay?” said Theon, “We could change the channel if you want—”

“No it’s fine—I mean I’m fine,” said Jeyne. She jerked the bottle out to him. “Do you want some?”

“You’re…stalling.”

“What? No I’m not.”

“Is it because it’s a slow song?”

“Do you want a drink, or not?”

Theon took the bottle and took a swig, then set it back on the car roof. “You sure the song isn’t making you uncomfortable?”

“I’m sure it’s just…”

“Poole, if you want to dance, we can dance.”

Jeyne flushed. “What?”

“I’m just saying it’s all right,” Theon held his hands out to her. Jeyne bit the inside of her lip, took another gulp of wine, and stepped over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders and he put his hands on her waist.  
“Good?” he said.

“Good.,” Jeyne nodded.

They swayed in time with the music for about thirty seconds before Theon noticed Jeyne was tearing up.

“Shit—Jeyne I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything—If you’re really that uncomfortable—”

“I’m not!” Jeyne said a little too loudly, then more quietly said, “I’m not…” She rubbed her eyes and put her hand back on Theon’s shoulder, still wet with tears, “It’s just… it’s weird, okay?”

“Fuck, I am making you uncom—”

“Theon, it’s not you!” Jeyne snapped, then she looked down, “This is just…when I was little, this is what I wanted. I wanted this so bad. I wanted to dance with you. I wanted you to care about how I felt and be concerned about me…You…you know I had a pretty big crush on you when I was younger, right?”

“I…uh…do not have a good track record for being very conscientious of others’ feelings,” said Theon.

“Especially not a stupid 12 year old,” said Jeyne, “God…” she shook her head, “I just wish…I wish the girl who wanted this so bad could be here..but she disappeared a long time ago,” she leaned her forehead on his shoulder and sighed, “I’m drunk. I’m not making any sense.”

“No—no it makes sense,” said Theon, “If it’s any consolation, the sexy idiot guy who was way too old for her and probably bad for her anyway isn’t exactly here either.”

They were quiet as the music swelled into an emotive synth solo. Jeyne pulled in close and Theon leaned his chin on top of her head.

“Just so we’re clear though, you’re still cool with slow dancing?” he said at last.

“I’m _very_ cool with slow dancing,” Jeyne said, cuddling up and smiling.

Theon would have retorted with, “That’s an oxymoron” as there is no possible way to feel cool when slow dancing unless one has had training, but instead he just kept shifting his weight between his feet and doing his damnedest not to screw this up as he said, “Good to hear, Poole.”


End file.
